Disclaimers: See Part 1.
*****
::London::
I came downstairs around seven the following morning, after a poor night's sleep fraught with
nightmares about orangutans. One dream that still remains clear in my memory had a gigantic
orangutan kidnap Mrs Hudson and climb Big Ben with her clutched in its paw. It was grinning
like the Cheshire cat.
Vetinari was, to my surprise, already up and about, leafing idly through one of Holmes' carefully
compiled reference books. A stack of other assorted volumes indicated that he'd been in the
study for some time. He was clad as before in one of Holmes' dressing-gowns and a pair of his
slippers - but he had a quiet dignity about him that refused to let him look ridiculous in the
outsized clothing this morning.
"Good morning, Watson," he said without looking up; until that moment I'd thought that he was
thoroughly absorbed in the book and I'd resolved not to disturb his studies. When he finally did
look up, I saw none of the usual symptoms of sleeplessness, and he'd even taken the time to wash
up, comb his hair, and trim his goatee. If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd never gone to bed to
begin with - but of course checking to see if Holmes' bed had been slept in would probably be an
exercise in futility.
"Good morning," I replied, "Did you sleep well?"
"As well as usual. We'll be going to the Cavitz residence after breakfast." It sounded less like a
suggestion open to discussion than a decree to be carried out without question. "Once there, we
will investigate the scene of the incident and, in general, see if there is anything there worth
seeing."
"Do you think you'll be able to figure out who set the bomb, and why?"
"Let me put it this way," he said, marking his page and closing the book, "One does not get to the
position I have achieved without making a number of enemies." He smiled thinly. "And one does
not *stay* in such a position without knowing how the darker elements work. Then again...
Ankh-Morpork certainly has no shortage of darker elements." He opened the book again. "I
probably had tea with half of them last week alone."
"I should think you'd be more worried about that, if you're so certain about it," I said.
"Better the sausage-seller you know," he said, rather opaquely I thought, then added, "Of course
I won't be able to form any theories until I meet the other players in this. But let us set the matter
aside for now... I believe I hear our breakfast coming up the stairs now."
Moments later, Mrs Hudson entered with the breakfast-tray, along with an oblong bundle
wrapped in a cloth napkin. The latter she handed to Vetinari, an expression of baffled concern on
her face.
"Thank you, Mrs Hudson," Vetinari said, "I promise I'll return these in good condition."
"If you say so," she said, clearly ill at ease, "Just don't do anything foolish. Mr Holmes never
carried--"
"They are a precaution, nothing more. You have no need to worry - I am not known for my
recklessness."
"What was that all about?" I asked after Mrs. Hudson had left, "And what, more importantly, is in
that bundle?"
"I consider it my business to be intimately familiar with all the hazards in a given environment," he
replied, punctuating this statement with a sip of orange juice before adding, "And I pride myself
on being prepared for unknowns. They are a security measure, nothing more." He laid his hand
on the bundle as I glanced over at it, anticipating my intent to unwrap it. I glanced back at him
and he met me with a steely gaze that translated to something like: "This is my business. It will
not be your business until I choose to make it your business. Don't force me to make it your
business." Aloud, he said, "You may wish to get some breakfast into you, Doctor. This may be a
very busy day."
Mrs Hudson's ham and eggs, usually a welcome breakfast before the sort of busy day usually to
be had around here, sat like lead in my stomach - at least what quantity I managed to choke past
my departed appetite.
*****
End Part 12.
*****
::London::
I came downstairs around seven the following morning, after a poor night's sleep fraught with
nightmares about orangutans. One dream that still remains clear in my memory had a gigantic
orangutan kidnap Mrs Hudson and climb Big Ben with her clutched in its paw. It was grinning
like the Cheshire cat.
Vetinari was, to my surprise, already up and about, leafing idly through one of Holmes' carefully
compiled reference books. A stack of other assorted volumes indicated that he'd been in the
study for some time. He was clad as before in one of Holmes' dressing-gowns and a pair of his
slippers - but he had a quiet dignity about him that refused to let him look ridiculous in the
outsized clothing this morning.
"Good morning, Watson," he said without looking up; until that moment I'd thought that he was
thoroughly absorbed in the book and I'd resolved not to disturb his studies. When he finally did
look up, I saw none of the usual symptoms of sleeplessness, and he'd even taken the time to wash
up, comb his hair, and trim his goatee. If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd never gone to bed to
begin with - but of course checking to see if Holmes' bed had been slept in would probably be an
exercise in futility.
"Good morning," I replied, "Did you sleep well?"
"As well as usual. We'll be going to the Cavitz residence after breakfast." It sounded less like a
suggestion open to discussion than a decree to be carried out without question. "Once there, we
will investigate the scene of the incident and, in general, see if there is anything there worth
seeing."
"Do you think you'll be able to figure out who set the bomb, and why?"
"Let me put it this way," he said, marking his page and closing the book, "One does not get to the
position I have achieved without making a number of enemies." He smiled thinly. "And one does
not *stay* in such a position without knowing how the darker elements work. Then again...
Ankh-Morpork certainly has no shortage of darker elements." He opened the book again. "I
probably had tea with half of them last week alone."
"I should think you'd be more worried about that, if you're so certain about it," I said.
"Better the sausage-seller you know," he said, rather opaquely I thought, then added, "Of course
I won't be able to form any theories until I meet the other players in this. But let us set the matter
aside for now... I believe I hear our breakfast coming up the stairs now."
Moments later, Mrs Hudson entered with the breakfast-tray, along with an oblong bundle
wrapped in a cloth napkin. The latter she handed to Vetinari, an expression of baffled concern on
her face.
"Thank you, Mrs Hudson," Vetinari said, "I promise I'll return these in good condition."
"If you say so," she said, clearly ill at ease, "Just don't do anything foolish. Mr Holmes never
carried--"
"They are a precaution, nothing more. You have no need to worry - I am not known for my
recklessness."
"What was that all about?" I asked after Mrs. Hudson had left, "And what, more importantly, is in
that bundle?"
"I consider it my business to be intimately familiar with all the hazards in a given environment," he
replied, punctuating this statement with a sip of orange juice before adding, "And I pride myself
on being prepared for unknowns. They are a security measure, nothing more." He laid his hand
on the bundle as I glanced over at it, anticipating my intent to unwrap it. I glanced back at him
and he met me with a steely gaze that translated to something like: "This is my business. It will
not be your business until I choose to make it your business. Don't force me to make it your
business." Aloud, he said, "You may wish to get some breakfast into you, Doctor. This may be a
very busy day."
Mrs Hudson's ham and eggs, usually a welcome breakfast before the sort of busy day usually to
be had around here, sat like lead in my stomach - at least what quantity I managed to choke past
my departed appetite.
*****
End Part 12.